Chalk and Cheese
by lizzieoneill
Summary: Lucie is just out of uni, in a dead end job and riddled with anxiety. She's struggling to see the point of it all, until a skeleton who seems to be her polar opposite walks into her life and stays a while. A Sans x Reader story. Bit of fluff, bit of angst, lots of puns. (*WARNING: smut in chapters 9 and 11*)
1. Like a sack of spuds

_Welp, you really messed that one up. Niice._

I've always hated going to that shop, ever since I moved here. The aisles were always crowded with monsters and humans alike, and the cashier was relentless in her judgmental stares, from my fingers fumbling for my change to my wobbly smile as I tried to stop my hands from shaking.

The shopping bags are already cutting into my palms, and I wonder if I should've taken the bus.

 _No. Too much heat. Too many people. Too little room._

I huff a deep sigh, the muggy atmosphere of the town starting to get to me. The day was grey, cloudy and humid. It seemed to me that on days like these, there was never enough oxygen.

 _Just keep your head down, in one two three, out one two three. Easy. It's easy._

 _IT SHOULD BE EASY WHAT'S WRONG WITH Y-_

Suddenly my ankle twists and I tumble like a sack of spuds, letting out an unnatural squawk. I land, knees-first, on the unforgiving concrete pavement, the impact jarring all the way from my knees to my hips. I catch myself from slamming my chin into the pavement- barely.

Palms burning, knees on fire, I pant heavily, sniffing, trying to hold in the sobs. I carefully coordinate my awkward limbs until I'm sitting on the ground, legs pulled up to my chest; and inspect the damage. My knees already have bruising, and one is bleeding profusely. I touch the bleeding wound gingerly, and a jolt of pain courses through me. The tears are welling up. Shit shit shit shi-

'Hey, kiddo, you okay?' I freeze as a low, cheery voice cuts into my thought-process. Looking up, I see a monster- a skeleton- looking down at me, grinning. 'Uh.. Uh..' My brain has turned to porridge. I swipe at my tears, only succeeding in smearing blood across my right cheekbone.

 _Smooth. Fucking smooth._

I feel like my 21 years of age have halved.

'I…' my tongue seems to have gone awol.

Realizing I'm struggling at being a functioning human, he holds out his hand. 'You look like you… knee-d… a hand.' he grins at you, winking. 'I'm Sans.' Was that.. a pun? I tentatively reach to take it, then falter.

 _This is already pitiful enough, you can stand on your own._

Ignoring my screaming nerves shooting pain through my entire bottom half, I gather my determination and stand on my own two feet. He- Sans- shrugs, stuffing his hand back in the pocket of his thick blue hoodie, still donning a wide grin.

I finally look at Sans properly. His skull is matte but smooth, like marble, and despite being bone seems to move fluidly. His eye sockets are pools of darkness, save a glint of mischief in each. His smile stretches across his face, and I know instantly that I like him. Not that it matters, because I'll never be seeing him again, especially after the spectacle I just pulled.

'… I'm Lucie.' _About bloody time!_

For the second time that day, he extends a hand, this time for me to shake.

'Hey, Lucie.'

This time, I take it.

 _Was that a whoopie cushion?_

Laughter bubbles up out of my mouth as I take in how surreal the situation is. Sans starts to laugh too, gravelly and self-assured, still not taking his eyes off of me.

'Here.' he says, and picks up the fallen shopping bags. 'Where to, pal?'

I pause for a second, unsure of whether I should be giving my address out to total strangers. Well, the answer to that was no, but, should I be giving it out to _this_ total stranger?

I think my ankle might be sprained, or at least badly twisted. I'm sure I can feel it swelling in my boots, but maybe it's just me overthinking. As usual. My knee's still pumping blood. I must have hit.. a vein? An artery? I was never so good at biology. There's no veins in my knees.. right?

… What's the difference between a vein and an artery?

I shake my head, I'm getting fuzzy. I don't know if I could get home by myself.

I finally decide that it's probably more dangerous to be lying passed out on the street bleeding than to be walked home by someone I didn't know too well. Besides, he'd used a _whoopie cushion trick,_ for god's sake.

I mumble my address, rubbing my eyes in an attempt to clear my head.

'Lucie?' He says, his grin fading slightly for the first time. 'You're looking a little green there, bud. Here, I'll take ya home.' He puts my arm around his shoulder, and helps me hobble along the dusty path. He's warm, warmer than he looks, and 'You know, you're only a street away from me.' He says, smiling. 'I moved here 'bout a month ago, with my brother Papyrus.'

 _Papyrus_ … I think. _What a funny name… Nearly as funny as Sans._

Then all of a sudden I feel my legs turn to water. Sans' arms grab me tightly just as everything fades to black.

 _Open your eyes. How long has it been? Oh god what if you've slept for a day and you've missed your shift and you're going to get fired and run out of money and you'll never be able to catch up on the rent and you're 3 months behind already you're such a mess you're such a mess_

Bleary-eyed, I shunt the anxious thoughts to the back of my mind and checked my phone. Five in the evening- I'd slept for 3 hours. A quick scan told me that I was in my own bed at home, with no Sans in sight. A second revealed a glass of water, two painkillers and a note:

 **Hey Lucie.**

 **Was feeling stalker-y so I left**

 **I had to lock the door behind me bc otherwise you'd get mugged or something, so I've got your key. Call me when you're awake.**

 **Look how KEY-n I'm being ;)**

 **My number – XXXXX-XXX-XXX**

Cringing at the awful pun, I took the painkillers and gulped down a slug of water. Drawing back my covers, I realize both my knee and my ankle are bandaged, and feel a hell of a lot better. Gingerly stepping out of bed, I trudge to the kitchen to make a sandwich, head pounding and stomach screaming for some very late lunch.

Taking a chunk out of a hefty chicken sandwich, I think about the abrupt, unexpected meeting. For some reason, thinking about him cracking a pun and impossibly moving solid bone to wink makes me crack a smile, heat rising to my cheeks. I made a right fool of myself. Taking another bite of the sandwich, I look at the number he'd jotted onto a scrappy old receipt.

 _You don't deserve him._

The voice in my mind says. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing with all my might that it would leave, that I could have a calm, tranquil day. To no avail.

 _You don't deserve to even know someone like that. He basically just saved you, and you can't even get out of bed some days. You're weak._

The tears are back.

 _Weak._

I could probably deal with it all, the overthinking, the esteem-destroying whispers in my head, the static filling my brain every time I said or did something wrong. I could probably deal with it all, if only I weren't so sure…

If only I didn't _know…_ that the voice was stating truths.

I take the receipt, observing the indents on the paper, the places where the ink has bled, the rounded curves of the letters. I crumple it in my fist, hold it at arm's length, and let it fall into the bin. A single tear falls but I swipe it away, limping back to bed. I knew I wouldn't be leaving it until work started the next day.


	2. Pot to a kettle

The snaking line of customers that has been constant for most of the day has finally gone down as I approach closing time; I'm flooded with relief when the last one departs, blueberry muffin and frappuccino in hand. Wiping down the counter, I thank my stars that my ankle healed so well overnight. I smile and raise a hand as the other barista, Lara, leaves. I usually handle the last half an hour before closing time on my own, seeing as there's usually only one or two customers. I turn away from the till to start to clean the filters on the machines. Just half an hour. Then I can sweep, lock up and escape home to my lonely little fort of junk food and pillows.

I'm shaken from my train of thought when the bell rings, signaling that my work's not done yet. Turning smoothly, I look up, ready to greet the customer with a cheesy, tip-worthy smile- but I'm stopped in my tracks by a familiar face.

Sans' hands are stuffed in his pockets, his eyes turned to the floor, basketball shoes scuffing along the ground. He doesn't look.. sad, exactly, just tired. Physically and mentally weary.

Looking up, he snaps out of it and his grin widens. 'Oh, hey Lucie! How're ya feeling?'

'H-Hey Sans,' I say, smiling despite my trepidation. 'I'm good thanks. Better. Must've been magic you worked yesterday, my ankle feels normal again!'

A look of being caught in the act flashes across his face, until he realizes you're joking. 'Magic, huh?' He smirks.

I narrow my eyes slightly. That look… but I don't question it. The silence begins to settle, enveloping the two of you.

 _Think of something to say, you idiot!  
_ 'So… S-so… Did you want something?' I begin, idea forming. 'Because I got a… _latte_ to do!' He laughs as if surprised that those words came out of you.

'Wow, how long did it take you to _brew_ that one?'

'Oh, I've just _bean_ playing around with it.'

'You're showing me up, kid.'

'Yeah, you look like a real _mug._ And I'm not a kid.'

He begins to chortle, his shoulders shaking with laughter. So do I, all of my nerves and feelings bursting out of me in nervous giggles that probably sound completely ridiculous.

'Alright, kiddo, if you say so.'

'Hey, I'm probably not much younger than you!' Probably. It's hard to judge, what with him being a skeleton and all that.

'I doubt it.' Sans smirked. 'Hey, listen- I still have that key. You wanna come to mine and pick it up? This place closes soon right?'

A rush of anxiety seizes me, but I find the strength to smile. 'S-s-sure! I finish in 20 minutes. But… I'm the only one here, so you can sit in here and wait.. I mean, only if you want. You don't have to, I just-'

'Sounds great.' He said, giving me a calming smile. I take a deep breath of relief, hiding my shaking hands behind my back.

 _Stop it. Just breathe. Just. Breathe._

I just really, really don't want to ruin this, and I'm sure I can physically feel the pressure crawling on my back.

I grapple to get my breathing under control as he sits, slouched with his hands on the table, feet up on the opposite chair. 'So tell me about you, kid.' He says, fiddling around with the pot of condiments on the table and fishing out a sachet of ketchup.

'Ah. Big question, small answer, aha..' I say, rubbing the back of my neck. 'Well, I'm 21, just got out of education. I did English at uni, but now I'm stuck doing minimum wage jobs and…' I sigh. 'I'm really, really broke. Like, so behind on rent. My landlord's a massive douche, too.' I pause, looking at my hands. 'Sorry! You don't want to hear about all that.' I try to chuckle, but it catches in my throat. I'm so stressed about this whole thing, it's hard to hint at it then let it go like that.

'Nah kid, it's cool. Better in than out and all that.' He grins at me, seeming genuinely interested. I smile quickly back, before mumbling, 'I'm really not a kid.'

He laughs, before gesturing towards the door.

A monster wanders in, covered in lilac fur with long, sweeping eyelashes. She buys only a bottle of water and a bagel, drops a 50 pence in my tip jar and gracefully sailed out.

I look back to Sans, who appears to be DRINKING THE SACHET OF KETCHUP.

'Oh my god. That has got to be up there with one of my top 10 most disgusting things I've seen this year.'

He swallows, grinning widely. 'What'samatter kid? Can't _ketchup_?'

I groan, muttering, 'That doesn't even make sense.' Glancing at the clock, I begin to shut down the till. 'So, Sans, tell me about _you._ Don't you dare get another sachet of ketchup.' I glare at him, and he smiles guiltily, putting it back. 'Aw, Lucie. What's _tomato_ with you?' I throw my damp cleaning cloth at his face, only for him to dodge it.

'What, you thought I'd just stand there and take it?'

I snort and begin shutting off the coffee machines.

He pauses for a second, before smiling. 'Not much to know.'

'You said you lived near me? On your own?'

'Nahh, I live with my bro. Papyrus. He's… You'll meet him later. He can be a little much, but I like him.'

'I will too, then, probably.' I glance at Sans to find that he is staring at me, and he looks away quickly, a blue flush dusting his cheekbones. I blink and it's gone. Weird.

'Soo, yeah. Pap and I moved here recently, I'm working a few jobs here and there but nothin' special. I like ketchup. I was very happy yesterday because I met this really cool girl. Then I was a little worried she died, because she never called.'

 _Shiiit._

'Despite my amazing puns.' He winks at me, then turns back to the pot of ketchup. If I didn't know better, I'd say he seemed a little insecure. I'm inwardly screaming.

'Sans, I… it wasn't you, I just…. f…forgot.' I trail off.

 _You fucking idiot. You fUCKING IDI-_

'No worries, kiddo, I am not one to talk about being reliable. Pot to a kettle and all that.'

'I'm not a kid!' I yell, pretending to be angry. Locking the back door, I shove the key in my pocket and grin.

'Ready?'

'Ready.'


	3. A little less bright, a little more air

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** :

WARNING. This chapter is extremely triggering, it features an anxiety attack. Felt a bit triggered just writing it tbh, so everyone be careful okay?

PS Leave a comment saying if you want longer or shorter chapters, I'm torn:)  
 **END**

We've been walking for a good ten minutes, and I'm becoming increasingly aware that my medication is not in my bag, it's at home, and of no use to me there. I'm focusing on my breathing and so am not giving much in the way of conversation, but Sans seems comfortable enough in the silence.

Suddenly, he stops in front of a small, dark house. It looks like it has been hand-built, endearingly higgledy-piggledy.

'Home sweet home,' he muses, before pushing open the door.

My stomach flips as I enter, blinking a little in the sudden bright light illuminating a cozy cottage, littered with colourful action figures and what looks like Sans' dirty laundry. Despite the mess, the wooden surfaces shine with polish, upbeat music is playing, and a delicious smell of Italian food drifts from the kitchen. I look over to Sans, and he flashes me a lazy grin.

'Probably should have cleaned up.'

'No, it's nice.'

He nods, looking around his house as if seeing it from a new perspective. He shakes his head, smiling.

'I'll get your key. Papyrus!'

He wanders off, hands in pockets, towards the source of the smell. I run my fingers along the table surface, swallowing my fear down.

 _Just get the key, and say goodnight. You can make it. You can still get out without looking weird._

I breathe heavily. I can vaguely hear Sans' low voice mingling with a comical, squawky one. Why are the lights so bright? I swear they're getting brighter. Running my hands through my hair, I slowly step towards the kitchen.

 _Call his name. Just call his name, but not too scared, you'll look needy. Just… just CALL. Sans. It's easy, say his name, not too loud, not too quiet, just say his nAME_

'Here ya go!' he says cheerfully, strolling out of the kitchen, swinging the key round one bony finger. I jump, adrenaline beginning to course through me.

'O-oh! Great!' I say frantically.

 _Too happy, too excited what are you doing that sounded so unnatural_

'… Lucie? Are you alright?'

 _You idiot look he's noticed he's noticed that you're being weird no that you_ are _weird and now he'll leave and you'll never see him again and_

Why won't my mouth work? My stomach is doing somersaults. I can't move. Oh god I can't move.

'Lucie?'

 _MY LEGS WON'T WORK AND I'M NOT IN CONTROL HELP ME I CAN'T BREATHE OH GOD I CAN'T BREATHE MY LUNGS AREN'T WORKING MY LUNGS THERE'S NOT ENOUGH OXYGEN_

I give a pathetic little gasp, tears welling. Bloody recurring tears. Another gasp. Three. Four. Where is the oxygen? Where is the air? The lights are so bright.

'Lucie!' Sans' voice is beginning to sound worried. He reaches for my arm and I instinctively step backwards away from it. He withdraws his hand so fast it's like I burnt it, his eyes wide with confusion. Guilt strikes through me at his expression, but I can't make my mouth form the word sorry.

All of a sudden my lungs are on fire and I'm struggling for air, making the most pitiful, sounds. Tears are falling, burning tear tracks into my skin.

'Sans.' Gasp. 'I.' Gasp. 'Can't.' Gasp. 'Breathe.' Gasp.

'Shit. Shit. _Shit._ _PAPYRUS!'_ Sans frets, wringing his hands, seeming unsure of whether to reach for me again or not. Eventually he decides to put one hand on each shoulder, guiding me to the floor. I'm on my knees, doubled over, hands in my hair, grabbing fistfuls because all I want to do is to pull two chunks right out.

'Lucie, what's wrong? What happened with your lungs? Is this a human thing? What do I do?'

Gasp gasp gasp gasp gasp gasp gasp

A tall, slender skeleton rushes in, taking in the scene of a hyperventilating human and his distraught brother on the floor.

'SANS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?'

'She can't breathe Pap, and she's scared of me touching her. Look up the symptoms, _quick_. What's wrong with you, Luce?'

 _What's wrong with me?_ The thought echoes in my brain.

Gasp gasp gasp gasp

Papyrus is suddenly typing into a phone, and it occurs to me that this is a very strange first introduction.

I'm clawing at my throat. Tears are falling and snot is dripping and I'm trying to say something, anything.

'MY MOBICULAR DEVICE SAYS IT'S A PANIC ATTACK, SANS! NEVER FEAR, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL DEFEND HER FROM ANY ATTACK. SHOW ME HUMAN, WHERE ARE YOUR ATTACKERS?' His skull is suddenly up close to my face, eyes wild. A rush of fear bolts through me and I scramble back, panting, still clutching at my chest, trying to find just one single breath.

'OH NO, MY APOLOGIES HUMAN, I AM NOT-'

'Papyrus. Back off a bit, will ya? I've read about these.' Papyrus hesitates, then nods, retreating back to the kitchen.

'Thanks, bro. Here, kiddo. Sit up.'

He helps me to sit up and straighten my back, allowing me to fill my chest with air, but it's still not enough. My entire body is racked with shaking, heart pumping, breaths coming out fast and ragged.

Gasp gasp gasp gasp gasp

I realize that I have scraped a layer of skin off of the backs of my hands. My nails are full of gunk, my hands burning. I pull them apart, trying desperately to shop the shaking, still furiously panting.

'Lucie.' Sans takes my hands in his own, gently holding them still. 'Lucie, look at me.' I try to get my eyes to meet his, but everything's blurring together and I can't I just can't I

'It's okay. You're okay. You're doing really well.' I look up, and his smile is pitying. I heave a great sob, knowing that I've ruined everything, and a fresh wave of panic washes over me.

Gasp gasp gasp gASP GASP GASP

'No no no! Breathe with me. In, 1, 2, 3, Out, 1, 2, 3.'

I try to breathe with him, shuddering with the effort, watching his ribcage expand and deflate.

'Perfect Lucie. Keep going. In 1, 2, 3, Out, 1, 2, 3.'

We keep doing it, his hands holding mine like they are delicate, stopping the shaking, until suddenly the world is a little less bright, and there is a little more air.

When my breaths finally return to normal, his face molds into a bright smile and he envelops me in a hug. We sit like that for a while, the silence only interrupted by San's relieved breathing and my sniffles.

Finally, I say 'I'm sorry…' My voice sounds small and thin.

 _Pathetic…_

I see the voice in my head hasn't taken a holiday.

'Lucie, don't be sorry…' Sans finally lets go of me, pulling his arms away, rubbing my shoulders with his hands while looking into my eyes. I feel a rush of warmth, but I'm still the one to break the eye contact first. 'Does that… happen often?'

I look at the floor. 'Uh… I… I'm not… I get a lot… I have…' I let out a little sob. My eyes feel raw from crying.

He shushes me gently, rubbing my shoulders. 'You don't have to answer.'

 _He's being so nice. Why is he being so nice? I ruined everything. I made everything into a big drama and he had to deal with my bloody emotional baggage_

I slowly start to stand on wobbly legs, clutching my key in my fist.

'I… I ruined this.'

'No, Lucie.' he smiles.

I feel around behind me for the door knob.

'I should… go…'

Papyrus pops his head round the corner and sees me standing up.

'HUMAN! I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE OKAY! YOU'RE JUST IN TIME FOR SPAGHETTI.'

Sans takes my hand in his. 'Look Lucie, you're wanted. You haven't ruined anything, and both of us want some company. So… stay for dinner?'

I pull my hand away slowly, wiping away yet another tear.

Then, I nod.

A wide grin spreads on his face, and I have a wobbly smile to match.


	4. You're funny, and I'm a joke

Papyrus smiles wide at me as I put my cutlery down, my plate scraped clean.

'That was great, Pap.' I smile, the nickname rolling off my tongue easily, like we are already close friends. Sans hasn't taken his eyes off me all meal, checking up on me, a smile on his face- it makes me blush.

'THANK YOU HUMAN! AT LEAST _SOMEONE_ AROUND HERE APPRECIATES MY COOKING.'

Grinning, I glance at the clock and realize it's eleven already. I don't know the way back to my house from here, and I dread asking for a walk back. I've been such an inconvenience already. It's been an hour since my episode, and I'm finally allowing myself to joke again, to laugh. I don't want the worry to creep back in again. This past hour has been bliss.

'Welp,' I say, pushing my plate away and stretching. 'Time has sure… _pasta_ quickly.' Sans snorts into his barely touched spaghetti. Papyrus has frozen, fork halfway to his mouth. 'OH DEAR GOD. THERE'S TWO OF YOU.' He whimpers. I giggle, glancing at Sans, who winks.

Suddenly a yawn overcomes me, and I rub at the sleep dust gathering around my eyes.

'I'll walk you home, kid.' Sans says, and I inwardly sigh with relief. He can read me like a book. I nod, putting on my coat. 'Thanks for having me, Papyrus. Sorry about the puns.'

'You are forgiven… this time.' He smiles widely at me again. Picking up my keys from the table, I smile at Sans, and he leads the way outside. It's a beautiful night, the stars like diamonds peppered across black velvet. Sans looks up with me as we begin to walk along the path.

'I'd never seen stars before a few months ago.' He says, a hint of wonder in his voice. 'Pretty sure I'll never take 'em for granted… they're amazing.' I nod in silence, enjoying the sound of his gravelly voice against the backdrop of crickets and far off cars. 'When I was down there… I felt trapped. I mean, in the obvious sense, I was under a mountain. But also… it felt hard to even get out of bed sometimes. All I wanted to do was to lie down and sleep, to make everything go away.' I look at him. His eyes are closed, his expression distant. I feel the need to rescue him, what from I'm not sure. 'Looking at the stars… makes me wonder, why did I ever give up trying to escape?' He says roughly, voice full of emotion.

I throw my arms round him, desperate to make his bad memories go away. Hesitatingly, he returns the hug, and we stand like that in the street a while. I'm the one to pull away, and he looks at me thoughtfully.

'Thanks, kid.' He mutters gratefully.

'It's alright.' I mumble, blushing. '… And I'm not a kid.' He chuckles at that, tearing his eyes away from me and continuing to walk.

'Lucie… I know I'm some stranger you met a few days ago, and I get the feeling you got rid of my number…' Heat rushes up my neck and into my face.

'But I don't want you to be alone when… if… you panic again. So I'm going to give it to you again so you can call me when you're feeling like that. If… If it would help. No pressure.' He rubs his neck, a blue flush covering his cheeks- I definitely saw it that time. Magic skeleton anatomy is weird. Go figure.

'Sans…' I begin, gathering my courage in my hands. I realize he's stopped, and it's because we're in front of my apartment building. I face him, and say- 'Listen. You were a stranger to me, and yet you helped me. You took me home, you bandaged me up, you didn't take advantage. You left me painkillers, for god's sake. I felt like… like I didn't deserve that. Like I haven't earned that kind of kindness…' He looks distressed by this, and opens his mouth to speak. 'Wait… I don't find it easy to open up, just- just let me talk for a second, 'kay?' He hesitates, then gestures for me to go on.

'So I decided to let you go. To cut myself off from you, cold turkey, because if I didn't, I'd keep on being broken, and you'd keep on trying to heal me. And now tonight…' My eyes fill up a bit, but I carry on, determined to finish. 'Tonight you healed me again. You did it again, and I can't… how can I let someone do so much for someone as useless as me?' I close my eyes and two tears run down my cheeks. 'We're… we're too different, Sans. You're confident and I'm cowardly. You're funny and I'm a joke. We're chalk and cheese, Sans, and I don't want to drag you down!' I breathe in, feeling like a huge weight has been lifted from the pit of my belly.

I raise my eyes to Sans', and he looks back at me with sympathy and care and genuine sorrow at my self-hatred. 'Lucie… give me your phone.' Clumsily, I retrieve it from my pocket, unlock it and give it to him. He fluidly enters his number, texts himself, and hands it back.

'It would be my pleasure to heal you- and you sure as hell deserve it.' He takes a deep breath, seeming to be searching for the right words.

'When I thought you don't want to know me because you don't like me, Luce, I thought, fair enough. But now I know you don't want to know me because you don't like _yourself_ , well, I might have an objection to that.' He grins at me. 'I'll text you sometime, if that's alright with you.' I feel drained, elation and fear writhing in my stomach.

'G'night, Luce.' He turns to walk away. The emotions rising up in my brain, my cheeks burning, I instinctively reach out and grab his hand. As he turns, without thinking twice, I kiss his bony cheek. 'Night, Sans.' I smile, watching the beautiful turquoise blush appear where I had just kissed. His eyes widen, grin bright enough to blind someone. Every bone in my body buzzing, I turn and unlock my door without looking back.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

OMG SO MUCH FRIGGIN FLUFF AND ANGST

I don't know if I like this chapter, but it's filler for the proper plot which is about to start so whoo! Leave a review letting me know what ya think ;)

-lizzieoneill


	5. Wii games and chill

Games night with the skeleton bros? Now that's my idea of a good time. The text came in from Sans a week after we had last talked in person- some sales guy at the shopping centre had seen Papyrus' naïve wonder at human technology and had talked him into buying a wii and half the games in the shop. I was officially invited to break it in, which was an offer I was not about to refuse.

Settling down on the sofa in my PJs, I pick up the controller.

'How about we start with… tennis?' I show them both the controls, and Papyrus' face lights up with joy at the prospect of swinging his long limbs around erratically.  
Sans sits on the sofa, and is somehow winning every game while doing nothing but lazily flicking his wrist. Papyrus is becoming more and more frustrated, and finally he shouts,

'THAT'S IT, SANS! TIME FOR MY SPECIAL ATTACK!'

'Alright Pap, why don't you _tennis_ about it?'

I groan, preparing for the outburst that is sure to follow, and sure enough Papyrus lets out a deafening screech.

'YOUUUUU!'

One broken lamp later, I decide to put the Wii Play disc away for the night. Sans says nothing, and I have a strong suspicion that he is thinking up lamp-related puns.  
'Just Dance!' I squeal, spotting the disc on the floor. I pick it up and look back at the two of them. They have blank expressions on their faces. 'Oh, you are in for a treat.'  
Sliding the disc into place, I load up the trashiest, girliest pop song I can think of, and pull them both up to standing position. 'Follow the dancer on the TV, okay? Most accurate dancer wins.'

Papyrus stands to attention. 'THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL BE VICTORIOUS IN THIS BATTLE!'

Sans looks at me. 'I don't know if I'll be able to do this, Luce!' I look at him in confusion.  
'I have no _body_ to dance with!' He grins from ear to ear- well, figuratively- and Papyrus groans.

'EVENING OFFICIALLY RUINED.'

'Shut up, it's starting!'

 _ **Baby can't you see… I'm falling**_

 _ **A guy like you should have a warning**_

Sans jerks his hips a little with the dancer onscreen, and jumps back onto the sofa, shaking his head. 'Too much exercise. I'm watching.'

'Just you and me, Papyrus.' I laugh.

'OH YOU'RE ON, HUMAN.'

 _ **Too high, can't come down**_

Following the routine I drop into a squat, slowly pulling up to standing position and running my hands through my hair. I shake my hips from side to side, trying not to crack up laughing from Papyrus' jerky movements, his limbs shooting in all directions.

 _ **With the taste of your lips, I'm on a ride**_

I swing my arms in time to the beat, perfectly in sync with the dancer onscreen. I've got triple Papyrus' score, and he is grunting in frustration. I wonder if I should maybe let him win, but decide against it. This game was a big part of my teenage years, and I'm fucking wrecking it.

 _ **You're toxic, I'm slipping under**_

I buck my hips, letting my whole body roll into it. I've practiced this in the mirror, no shame. Everyone has... right?

 _ **I'm addicted to you, don't you know that you're…**_

Running my hands through my hair, I shamelessly shake my butt to the beat and turn in a circle. I catch Sans' eye, and I realize he is staring at me, a blue blush covering his cheeks.

 _ **Toxic.**_

'HUMAN, YOU'VE STOPPED DANCING! ARE YOU ATTEMPTING TO GIVE ME AN UNFAIR ADVANTAGE! BECAUSE THE GREAT PAPYRUS DOES NOT NEED HELP!' Papyrus yells. I barely hear him.

I'm too busy looking into Sans' eyes, which do not seem as bottomless tonight as they did a week ago. There's something in them, a raw energy, going unspoken but not unnoticed. He's looking right back at me, and I feel a rush of warmth in my chest. He breaks eye contact to glance at Papyrus, and I snap out of it.

'THIS IS NOT FAIR, HUMAN! YOU WERE STANDING STILL FOR ALMOST HALF THE SONG! AND I HAVE STILL LOST!' He stamps his feet.

'That's because…' I think fast. Papyrus is like a child, so flattery works on him. 'The game… probably recognized that the one and only great Papyrus is playing. It wanted to… challenge you. You'll have to train up to defeat this game.' He begins to nod, eyes growing in size.

'WHAT AWE-INSPIRING TECHNOLOGY! I SHALL GO TO UNDYNE'S TO TRAIN RIGHT AWAY.' He sprints out of the door, not even bothering to shut it behind him.

'And then… there were two.' I say, smiling slightly, feeling the flush creep into my cheeks.

Sans chuckles. 'So what now, Luce?' I pause, cogs turning.

'Have you heard of Mario Kart?'

* * *

'No! No, fuck off, no!' Sans howls, shaking his wii remote in frustration for probably the tenth time that night. I snort with laughter, and wonder if maybe introducing him to the competitive racing game was a bad idea. Since his first loss, he has refused to play anything else. Maneuvering past his car and over the finish line with ease, I say jokingly, 'Aw, don't worry Sans. 2nd place is pretty good, considering how crap you are.'

He looks at me murderously as I click to go on to the next race. 'That's it. Prepare to have a bad time.'

Nearing the finish line, I grin. 'Sansy boy, 11th place? Indulge me, what are your tactics?' He says nothing, donning an expression filled with determination. I shrug. 'Welp, say hello to the fourth time winn-' A bullet zooms past my character, stopping me mid-gloat. The bullet disappears with a puff of pixelated smoke to reveal Sans' character, Wario, smoothly gliding over the finish line. First place. I gape.

We sit in stunned silence for half a second before he leaps up onto the sofa, throws his arms in the air and bellows, 'OOOHHHHHHHHH!'

I can't find the words.

'GEEEEET DUNKED ONNN!'

How.

'GET FUCKING DUNKED ONNN!' He is jumping up and down on the sofa, guffawing at my failure. I start to laugh with him, and pull his leg sharply mid-jump. He crashes down to a sitting position beside me, the breath knocked out of him.

'Calm down, short stuff.' I laugh, ignoring the fact that he's taller than me. Whatever, all monsters are taller than humans- he's shorter than all his monster friends. He finally gets his breath back, and looks at me with joking anger.

'You asked for it.' He suddenly pins me down to the sofa and begins tickling my ribs, a wicked grin on his face. I screech and squirm away from his bony fingers, and we roll together off the sofa and onto the floor, him landing straddled on my stomach, not pausing to take a break from tickling. Laughter echoes through the house.

'MERCY! YOU WIN! STOP!' I squeal, wheezing with laughter. 'SAAAAANS!' He stops, finally, out of breath himself from holding me down. He sits back, still on top of me, a smug grin on his face. 'Damn right I'm the winner.'

'You're a weiner alright.' I mutter. My wrists are suddenly pinned again, and he raises his hand over my ribcage in threat.

'What was that, Luce?'

'Nothing!' I splutter, my hair in my face and my heart in my mouth.

All of a sudden it is as if we have both zoomed out of the situation and seen ourselves, lying on top of one another, him pinning my wrists, my tank top beginning to ride up my stomach. He grins guiltily and swings his leg off me, allowing me to push myself up onto my elbows. We shuffle backwards along the floor until we're sat, knees touching, against the sofa. I realize that I haven't had an anxious thought in hours. Sans seems to have that effect on me.

'Sans-' I begin, but I don't know what I want to say. I tilt my head towards his, to find that he is already looking at me. We are very, very close. His eyes are looking deep into mine. We are both blushing and I am looking at how his eyes aren't black, they're a deep navy blue. I'm looking at the bones that make up his skull that is not quite a skull, how the bone seems to mould to make lips when he talks. I wonder what it would feel like to kiss those lips. I wonder if they would be warm. I wonder if he is thinking the same about my human lips, soft and lush, filled with blood and coated with lip balm.

Nerves make me pull away, and he sits back, looking disappointed. No! I hate this, I hate this, I hate myself. My own brain is ruining my social life. Cursing it, I decide to yolo it- I really need to stop using yolo; even if it is ironically.

'Sans..?' I whisper, as if trying to avoid being heard at all.

'Yes?' He says, hearing me anyway.

'Do you…'

'Do I…?'

'Are you…'

'Am I…?'

'Are… you free tomorrow night?'

He looks at me, and his face is lit up with happiness. 'Luce, you know I am.'

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

 _ **Mwah hah hah. So much sexual tension. I'm so happy, I've worked out where this story's headed, so stay tuned because it's gonna have a little more backbone in future than the current mess of angsty fluff. The next few chapters may not quite show that yet, but I have an end goal! I promise!**_


	6. What a nerd

The phone dials twice, and she picks up. Thank god.  
'LARA! HELP!'  
'Oh my god Lucie, what's wrong?'  
'I… have a date.'  
'Ho. Ly. Shit.'  
'I don't know what to wear…'  
'I'll be over in 5.'

Clicking off, I thank my lucky stars that Lara, the full-time barista and part-time fashionista (as she likes to call herself), is my best friend. We got on from my very first day at that café. I look around my room, which is covered in discarded clothes. I've been burrowing around in my wardrobe for about 45 minutes, and I'm still clueless.  
The doorbell rings. 'Holy shit, that was quick,' I think, buzzing her in. My door slams open to reveal my very pretty, very chubby friend. She's clutching a floral makeup bag, and is wearing an ecstatic expression.

'LUCIEE!' she squeals.  
'Hey, Lara.' I giggle.

'I CAN'T BELIEVE IT OH MY GOD!' she grabs my shoulders and shakes me. Pausing suddenly, she takes in my appearance- three-year-old jeans, snarky t-shirt, neon socks.

'Oh no. No, no, no. Take 'em off.' She instructs, throwing her bag down and asserting her presence immediately.  
'Do you… You want a cup of tea or…?'  
'GET THOSE CLOTHES OFF RIGHT NOW.'

Snorting with laughter, I strip down, comfortable enough around Lara; she's the only person in my life that I really can feel comfortable around. Looking back at her, I see that she's ferreting around in the various mountains of clothes. She surfaces with a smile, holding a handful of crumpled clothing.

'Aha! Do you have an iron?'

A half hour later, I'm standing in front of my mirror, clad in a denim miniskirt, and a white lace top with a red and black plaid shirt over it, sleeves rolled up to my elbows. She's also lent me some knee-length black socks and black doc martens, because apparently that's 'my aesthetic'. I forgot to mention- Lara is complete tumblr trash.

She stands back, admiring her work.  
'I am goood. Now, sit! Makeup time.' I glance at the clock. One hour left until Sans is picking me up.  
'Don't go mental, Lara.'  
'Mental, me? You wrong me.'

Luckily, she follows my instruction, and just cleans up my skin with some foundation as well as filling in my brows. She takes her time on my eyes, lining them carefully and giving them cat-eye flicks, and finally runs a matte red lipstick across my lips.

'Done!'

Popping my lips together to mattify them further, I look into the mirror. Taking in my appearance, a smile spreads across my face. My green eyes pop with the makeup, and my lips look full and kissable.

'Lara, you're a miracle worker.'  
'Just showing off what you already have, lovely. I have to go now, but good luck! Tell me _everything_.'  
I squeeze her hand in goodbye, and she packs up her bag and leaves.

Taking a deep breath, I try to calm down my heart, which is drumming against my ribcage. 10 minutes till 8. 10 minutes till he comes.

* * *

'Hey, kid.' Sans grins, hands in pockets. The only difference in his appearance is he's changed his usual slippers for basketball shoes.

'I see you dressed up, twinkletoes.' I grin, instantly comfortable around him.

'Yeah, yeah. This is my Sunday best!'

'It's Saturday, dude.'

'Fight me, Lucie.'

'I will!' He laughs at me, before smiling and saying, 'You look great, Lucie.'

'Who, me?' I smile, blushing.

'Yep, you. Now, c'mon, I was promised a date and so far I've stood in a corridor and been made fun of. Rude.' He steps away from the door so I can get out, which I do, grabbing a jacket and locking the door behind me.

'Where to?' I wonder, and he smiles.

'Fancy a picnic?' He produces a picnic basket from behind his back, and I laugh. What a nerd.

We wander along the road, talking about nothing in particular, laughing at each other. At some point we started holding hands, but I can't remember how it happened. All I can think about is now, how his fingers feel around mine and how I can feel the warmth radiating off him.

He turns off onto a path surrounded by greenery, trees leaning over the path, crickets chirruping. As he leads me by the hand, I step carefully through the thorn bushes, glad I have Lara's docs on.

We finally emerge from the bushes into an open field that shows a wide sky, clear and beautiful. As I look up, the stars seem to be brighter and more numerous here than anywhere else in this little town, and moonlight floods the area.

'Woah.' I breathe.

We sit together on a blanket that he's brought (again, what a nerd. Cute nerd though.), still gazing up at the view. I can't tear my eyes away.

'So, Lucie.' He says, grinning at me.

'Yup?' I smile at him.

'I kind of want to show you something, because I think I can trust you.' I blush at his words. Sans' trust seems powerful and important; having it feels like an honour. I nod for him to go on.

'I don't show this to humans because they tend to freak out. There was a petition a while ago for scientists to take a few of us and do tests on us- luckily, it fell through for ethical reasons, but it made me a lot more wary about who I tell.' I shudder at the thought of Sans in a sterile lab, strapped to a table with some scabby scientist bent over him.

'Lucie… I have… certain powers. Magic, actually. Heh…' I look at him, making sure that he's not joking, but no hint of laughter echoes in his face, just honesty.

'Well, you're a walking talking skeleton, so I guess…' I hesitate, trying to be as open-minded as possible. 'It doesn't really seem that unusual.' He smiles at me, and I return the favour.

'Can I… show you?' He asks. I nod, excitement stirring in my chest.

He slowly raises his hand, palm upwards, and bright blue flame flares up, engulfing his hand and licking the night sky. I gasp, eyes wide.

'Holy shit, Sans, that's…' I look at him, and the same flame is stirring in his left eye. He grins, and lets his hand fall, the flame disappearing, the silhouette still burned into my corneas. 'There's more, but… maybe another time.'

I tug at his arm, whining, 'Nooo, come on Sans, don't leave me hanging! Show me everything, I want to know it all!'

He laughs, raising his hand, and the fire is back.

'Guess I really lit a _fire_ in you, kid.'

'I'm not a kid…' I breathe, enraptured by the flame that does not burn him.

'Now, mind out, Lucie.' He raises his arm and, behind him, a form starts to appear. I clap my hands over my mouth to stop a scream as a gargantuan, demonic head appears.

'Sans. What the fuck. We went from cute little blue fire to CONJURING SATAN SPAWN AND I'M NOT READY!' He cracks up laughing at my half-joking, half-completely genuine fear; the picture of lazy tranquility, sitting on the picnic blanket, propping himself up with one hand.

'Watch.' One tiny flick of his wrist and the head opens its gaping maw, letting out an intense beam of light with a roar of sound, incinerating three trees on impact.

'HO! LY! SHIT!' I scream. Sans drops his hand instantly and any trace of magic disappears, his face filled with sudden panic.

'Luce, was that too much? I'm sorry, I didn't-' I dive onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck, body buzzing with exhilaration.

'That. Was. Amazing!' I squeal, rocking against him as he begins to laugh, returning the embrace.

'I thought I'd frightened you,' he says.

'Oh, you did. Warning next time.' I say, pulling back so I can look at him with my arms still around his neck. 'But that was… you're just… _magic._ ' I breathe, looking at him.

He blinks at me, glancing down at my lips and back at me. I notice how close we are, how our bodies are pressed together. How the bone making up his lips looks as intriguing now as it did last night.  
'Fuck it.' I think, throwing all caution to the wind, and I press my lips to his. They are warm and solid, moving like clay to reciprocate the kiss. He pulls me further into him so I am straddling him, until we are moving as one, hands pressing into each other's waists like we are desperate to be closer to one another.  
Every nerve in my body is standing on end and I can feel my blood pumping in my ears as my soft lips move against his hard ones. Chalk and cheese- but opposites attract.  
His hands are running through my dark, silky hair and down the back of my neck, round, touching my face as he kisses me, running his thumbs along my cheekbones. He treats my face like it is precious, holy, and for the first time, maybe ever, I feel beautiful. I feel beautiful with his lips pressed to mine, every bone humming, my soul singing- and I never want that feeling to go away.

Finally we pull apart, grinning at each other. I can feel warmth travelling up through my entire torso, and we look at each other for half a second, his eyes wild, my hair windswept. Then I splutter with laughter.

'Sans, my lipstick.' He looks like he's bitten into a tube of red paint, cherry red smeared across his mouth. I hold up my phone camera to show him, and he laughs with me, shrugging.

'Eh. Brings out my eyes.'

I shift off of him, giggling, and he lies down, looking up at the stars, a smug smile on his face. 'I pulled.' He jokes in a sing-song voice, making fun of the weird human phrase.

'Don't look so proud of yourself.' I smirk, snuggling up to him and leaning my head into his shoulder as he wraps his arm around me.

'I could just lie here all night and be perfectly happy.' I whisper, for once not letting myself panic about the various consequences of putting my heart on my sleeve. Sans kisses my head, and I yawn a little.

'Then why don't we?' He smiles.

So we do.


	7. Get a room, freaks

***AUTHOR'S NOTE*  
What's this? A new chapter?  
You know it baby.  
Leave a review, it makes my day!  
*END***

I grip the chains of the swing, feeling the cold metal dig into my hands, contrasting with the warmth of the sun. Today I'm wearing shorts for the first time in a long time, as the summer heat is finally starting to show, along with some scuffed red converse, a loose red t-shirt and a denim jacket.

Sans and I are sitting together on the swings of the local park, as we have been for hours, talking and laughing.

'Dude, no!' I giggle. 'Ketchup does _not_ taste good on cornflakes.'

'I guarantee you'll like it. How d'you know you don't like it if you won't try it?'

'Because I have a brain?'

'Oh come on. It's a no- _brain_ er.'

'You're not helping your cause.'

'Pffft.' He grins, leaning back on his swing, the momentum carrying him forwards.

I swing with him, smiling, eyes closed, letting the warmth wash over me.

'Moving on…' he says, a grin on his face. 'I didn't show you all my magic last night.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah… I uh... I can move stuff with my mind, too.'

'No. Way.'

'Yeah!' He laughs, spurred on by my enthusiasm. I stand up, digging around in my pockets, and fish out a pencil. Holding it in my palm, fingers outstretched, I smile at him. 'Go on then!'

He stands too. The blue flame leaps up in his eye again and he holds out his hand. Turquoise glows around his bony fingers and around the pencil, which tingles in my palm, before smoothly sliding two feet upwards into the air. It sends shivers through me.

'That is so freaking cool! Okay, can you do something bigger?' Sans snorts.

'Bigger? Luce, that pencil was the size of a flea compared to the strength of my magic.'

'Alright, alright. Don't get cocky. Try… this rock.' I pick up a little piece of gravel, smirking at him. He pretends to be insulted, before a wicked grin spreads over his face, and he holds his hand out again, the blue flame licking the air.

Suddenly an intense wave of energy sweeps over my body, raising every hair on my arm and making my scalp tingle. I feel a huge amount of heat engulf me from the inside out, and my fingers feel like they're full of static. I raise my hands to my face, and I see that they're glowing as if radioactive. I take a deep breath and let it out, both terrified and fascinated, and raise my eyes to Sans'. His grin widens even more, and he begins to lift his arm higher in the air.

'Woah, woah, woah!' I yell, wind-milling my arms as my feet leave the floor. The tingling sensation only increases as I get higher off the floor. 'Saaans!' I squeal, and he laughs.

'Why so _blue_ , kid?' I make a frustrated sound, still raising higher off the ground. My legs have turned to jelly, and I'm starting to feel my feet being pulled out from under me and my head pushed down.

'Don't. You. Dare.' I hiss at him, but I know it won't make a difference as I feel his magic flip me onto my stomach.

'Aw, what are you gonna do, kid?'

I'm upside down.

'SANS!' I shriek, kicking my legs against the sky as my hair tumbles to the floor, tightly gripping my shirt so it doesn't fall over my head. I glare at him from upside-down; he's filled with shameless glee at my pain.

'Let. Me. Go.' I snap, pretending to be furious, but trying not to laugh at his goofy expression. 'And don't you dare say 'poor choice of words'! You are not the joker, bone boy!'

He shrugs, laughing, and carefully sets me down, right way up. I smack the back of his skull, and he kisses my forehead playfully.

'GET A ROOM, FREAKS.' I jump at the intrusion, turning to see a gang of young men swaggering over, hands in pockets. We got lucky- two seconds earlier and they would have seen Sans' magic. I shiver. The sun has gone in.

'Sans?' I say under my breath as they close in.

'Get ready to run.'

'A monster and a human? That shit ain't right.' One of them declares, a glob of spittle flying from his blubbery mouth to the ground, his breath reeking of cigarettes and alcohol.

'Woah there, buddy.' Sans smiles, subtly pushing me behind him. 'We aren't doing anything to you.'

The thugs laugh at him and jostle each other, as if riling themselves up for a fight.

 _Oh no._

They close in even further, forming a semi circle around us, backing us up against the fence. Do we still have time to run? I rub my clammy hands against my shorts, feeling my breath begin to catch in my throat.

 _Sans does not need to deal with you panicking on top of them. Get it the fuck together, Lucie._

All of a sudden grimy hands close hard around both my wrists and twist. I squeal, as I am dragged from behind Sans and away from him by a fifth man whom neither of us had seen.

'Hey there pretty lady.' He breathes, and the foul stench makes me gag.

Sans starts towards me, not even bothering to conceal his anger anymore, and the four other guys crowd him.

'Woah there, big fella. You shouldn't be talking to this girlie. So we're gonna do ya a favour, take her off your hands, and we'll forget this ever happened.'

'She's a person, you fuckwit.' Sans growls, his eye beginning to glow blue. The thugs are outraged at the insult, and huddle together. I catch a few words like 'make him pay' and see a flash of silver in one of their hands- a flick-knife. Fear consumes me, not at what might happen to Sans, but what Sans might do to them- and the consequences of any rash action. I catch his eye and shake my head frantically. If a monster uses magic against a human- I can't imagine what the papers would say. The monsters' integration into society was difficult enough already. He takes a deep breath, still looking at me, and his eye stops glowing. I mouth 'Get ready.' He nods.

Raising my foot, I kick it high up into the air behind me and strike gold. The guy holding me lets out an agonized groan and allows my wrists to slip through his fingers as he collapses onto the floor, holding his crotch. In the confusion that follows, Sans pushes through them, grabbing my arm, and we sprint away from them together.

I look back briefly at the park and the group of men aren't bothering to give chase, but are looking after us menacingly. I shake it off as trees and shops and streetlights begin to whizz past us, breath seeming unnecessary as the concrete slides past my feet and Sans tugs my fore-arm.

It seems like an eternity before we slow down, and I realise we are in the street next to my house. Sans bends over, hands on his knees, and wheezes in exhaustion. I flop down onto the road, panting, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.

'Are... you... okay?' Sans puffs.  
'Yes,' I say, trying not to blush at the concern that fills his eyes. He nods, closing his eyes, relieved.  
'I… haven't… run… in…four… years…' Sans splutters, and I start to laugh. Adrenaline seizes up my body and I laugh like it is the funniest thing I ever heard, like the sound of his laughter mingling with mine makes me the happiest I've ever been- and in that moment, I guess I am.

'Thanks, Luce.' Sans smiles, as he gets his breath back. 'If I'd used my magic there… I don't know what would have happened.'

'It doesn't matter, because I was there to stop you. Muppet.' I stand and kiss his cheek, taking his hand.

'Fancy ordering a takeaway?'

'Oh man. What did I do to get you?' He grins, and we start to walk to mine. I ignore the seed of fear that has been planted within me. I ignore how the thugs looked when I glanced back, full of hatred and disgust and… vengeance. I ignore the bad gut feeling I have, which has never been wrong before that.

I ignore all of it, because I have Sans, and that makes everything okay.

 ***AUTHOR'S NOTE***  
 **Damn right, I got dramatic on your asses.**  
 **Little hint for ya- this isn't the last you're**  
 **gonna see of those racist mofos, uh ohh**  
 ***END***


	8. The Marvellous Lucie Bloom

***AUTHOR'S NOTE*  
** **Suuuper short chapter.  
** **French coursework is killing  
me ****so you get a little bit of  
filler until ****tomorrow!  
** ***END***

 **San's POV**

I wasn't expecting it.  
I saw a human, a young woman, fall to the ground in pain.  
I saw an ankle twist and blood blooming, shaking hands and glassy eyes.

I saw her.

My world had been grey for so, so long, every day just filler before another timeline reset, before another shift.

My friends would say things that they'd said before, tens of times before, and I would follow them, repeating myself. Over and over. I've seen the same sky for months, the same things starting and ending, the same people coming and going. Nothing could surprise me anymore.

Until…

Her.

Something new; some _one_ new, in pain, broken from the inside out.

I think that's what made me stop, talk to her, try to help.

But as she refused my help and staggered to her feet, that's when I really started to feel it.

I couldn't let her go, couldn't get her out of my head, as I took her to a flat that I'd never seen before, bandaged up wounds that I'd never seen before. Left a note that I'd never written before.

And when she panicked, I could see the fear in her eyes and the harsh rise and fall of her chest, and I _didn't know what to do._ I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.  
In a world where I have the answer to everything, because the question had been asked of me three hundred times before, here was a new conundrum, a new problem to solve. A new wonder to wrap my scientific brain around.

With her, everything feels new, not just the things that we do together, but things that I have seen and done a hundred times before are given a new light, a fresh perspective.

She confuses me, amuses me, _surprises_ me.

She's complicated, emotional, filled with determination. She's gorgeous and funny and clever. When she's deep in thought, her eyes seem to cloud like a winter's night sky, when she's happy her voice is like music. When she cracks a pun I look at her bright face and wonder what I did to get her.

She's a mystery, yet so down to earth. She's stunning, yet hates her own face. She's the most interesting person I ever met, and yet she's taught herself to keep her mouth shut.

When she's sad I want to do nothing but kiss her until she is okay again.

So I'll keep being here, keep healing her, keep fixing her, until she doesn't need me anymore. And then I guess the marvellous Lucie Bloom will move on, and my world will be grey again. But I don't mind. She makes me into my best self. So long as she's here, I can forget everything.

 ***AUTHOR'S NOTE***  
 **Sad Sans is sad. This one's**  
 **a bit of a downer, but it**  
 **should perk up- actually,**  
 **you know what, next chapter's**  
 **kinda angsty too. OH WELL**  
 ***END***


	9. Big spoon, little spoon

'Okay, Papyrus, right hand on red.' I say. The gangly skeleton lets out a squawk as he twists his body into a contorted position.

'MUST... WIN...!' he splutters, thin arms shaking at the effort of holding himself up. Sans and I have it easy, standing in a beeline, my back to Sans' front; left feet on green, right feet on blue. Sans keeps nudging me in the ribs from behind, the dirty great cheat.

My turn. Sans flicks the spinner idly, a lazy grin on his face, which only widens as he says, 'Right hand on green, Luce.'

'Yeah, yeah. Smile a bit wider, why don't you.' I mutter darkly, before bending down to touch the green spot, keeping my legs straight. As Sans had predicted, my ass was right up in the air- right in his line of vision. He laughs and I look up at him upside down, from between my legs, narrowing my eyes at him. He just laughs harder.

'WHAT IS SO FUNNY, BROTHER?'

'Nothin', bro, just enjoying the view.'

Oh it is so on, bone boy. I smoothly swing my leg into his, kicking it out to the side and causing his whole body to topple. He yelps before collapsing onto the ground, taking me with him, and we land in a heap; his body on top of mine. He pushes himself up onto his hands and realises that I'm directly underneath him. For a moment we look at each other, eyes locked, barely breathing, his hands either side of my face, our legs intertwined, both of us blushing- for a moment, no one on the entire earth exists but us. Then, it is broken.

'I WOONN!' Papyrus screams, before crashing to the ground with a groan of pained relief. 'I LIKE THIS GAME, HUMAN!'

'I told you, it's Lucie, Pap.' I murmur, Sans' eyes still fixed on mine. He closes them and smirks, before reluctantly getting up. He holds out a hand to me as I sit up, and I eye it warily.

'If that has a whoopie cushion in, Sans, I swear to God.' He snorts with laughter and grabs my arm, yanking me to my feet.

I check my phone, and realize that I've been with the skele-bros for nearly three hours. It's midnight, way past Papyrus' bedtime, and the thought of walking back in the dark makes me feel like my stomach has shrunk to the size of a pea. I can ask to be walked back, but what about those thugs? What if they see me with Sans again?

'I'M GOING TO BED. GOODNIGHT, HUMAN ! GOODNIGHT, BROTHER!' Papyrus waves formally, before bounding up the stairs like an excitable puppy.

'Lucie, it's late. You wanna crash here?' Sans says, smiling. I freeze.

 _Does that mean sex? Because I don't want that. Well I do want that, well at some point I do, but not now. Not right now, I'm not ready now, but does he know that? Will saying yes imply that I am ready? Is there a dictionary I can buy that will explain the meaning of 'wanna crash here?'_

'On the couch!' Sans says quickly, seeing my expression. 'No big deal.'

I breathe a sigh of relief, and nod. 'That would be grand.'

'I'll get you a blanket.'

It's 3am. Sans has lent me his shirt, which is like a dress on me; it smells of charcoal and old-fashioned cologne. Sans and I are curled up together on the couch, his hands around my waist, having a good ol' fashioned DMC.

'Do you believe in God?' I ask. 'Do monsters have Gods?'

'Sure, some of us believe in God. Seems pretty close to Christianity's ideas, from what I've read. But I don't believe in that, really.'

'How come?' He laughs quietly, his breath sending shivers down my neck, but it seems forced.

'I've… seen too much.' I don't push it, and we lie in silence for a few minutes, before he speaks again.

'I do believe in demons, though.' His voice is darker, almost haunted, and he sounds like he's speaking from experience. I roll over so I'm facing him.

'Demons? Why?'

'Because I've seen one.' He closes his eyes, as if in pain. Reliving a memory. I take his hand and kiss the bony fingers, waiting for him to go on.

'I'm… scared. Scared you won't believe me.' He smiles bitterly.

'I'll believe you,' I say, squeezing his hand, and I mean it. Whatever he has to say, I'll gladly listen.

'I… Back in the underground. The kid who broke the barrier, who saved us all… they had this power.' Sans' brow was furrowed, and I could see the cogs in his brain turning, trying to figure out how it was possibly tangible.

'Power?' I ask, playing idly with his fingers.

'Yeah. Any time they wanted, they… They could _reset_ the timeline. They could take themselves, _the whole WORLD,_ back in time.' He looks at me, gauging my reaction.

'Any time they died, or got hurt, or wanted to do something over, they could push the entire underground back, a few minutes, or months, or… or years, and… I'm sorry. I get that it's hard to believe.'

'No! I…' I think about Sans, the walking skeleton with flames in his eye. It's not so hard to believe, in the context. As a fan of the multiverse theory, I guess it's not so hard to wrap my head around.

'I believe you. But, how come I haven't noticed? How come Papyrus hasn't talked about this?' Sans sighs.

'For some reason… I'm the only one who remembers.' He looks at me, and blue tears are welling up in the darkness of his eyes. 'I've lived through… everything.'

I pull him close, wrapping my arms round him. I can feel him shake, and I think that maybe we are not as different as I thought. Maybe he's fragile, too.

'The first kid… who fell down into the underground. Their name was…' Sans takes a deep breath in, as if terrified to even say it. 'Chara.'

'Chara…' I murmur, testing it on my tongue. Fear burns in his eyes for a second, and he says, 'Don't… say it too much. And only around me.'

'Superstitious, huh?' I smile.

'No. This is something… this isn't just some old wives' tale. It's big, bigger than us, bigger than anything in this little town. Chara… they're the demon. Corrupt, twisted, vicious, _destructive_.They… they possess things that fall into the underground, and use them to hurt… so when they found the human, with all that power…' He sighs quietly. 'The kid was strong. Sometimes, in fact most of the time… they won against her, and we were happy, and safe, but… sometimes…' I let out a breath through my teeth.

'They lose?'

'They lose. Chara's anger and their… their determination… it's unstoppable. They kill everything in their path, and then they reset. And I…' He lets out a shaky breath. 'I feel myself die, a knife in my chest… and it's dark for a while. Sometimes a few hours, sometimes days. Once I think it was weeks. Then I can feel myself being pulled by something, and it's… _excruciating_. And suddenly I'm back in my bed, and Papyrus is asking if I want pasta for breakfast. It's like nothing ever happened.' I let him talk, running my fingers up and down his arm in comfort. As his words wash over me, I'm filled with horror. The things he's been through…

'I've watched my friends die, hundreds of times. I've watched _Papyrus_ die a hundred times.' A single tear, burning blue, rolls down his bony face.

'Sans…' I whisper, cupping his face with my hand.

'There's no end. I'm so scared… all the time. Scared they're gonna reset. Scared they're gonna lose to Chara, scared they'll kill all my friends… again. Scared I'll…' More tears fall. 'Scared I'll lose you.'

I look into his eyes, seeing his anguish and desperation and terror, and I feel an immense need to protect him.

'You won't. Not ever. I promise.'

He gazes at me, and I back at him, still holding his face in my hands.

Then he closes the gap and we're kissing. Passionate. Furious. I wrap my arms around his neck and we roll over, until I'm lying on top of him, my knees either side of his body, kissing his mouth, his bony neck, his collarbones. He moans quietly, stroking his hands through my hair. I move back to his lips and we kiss again, sharing heat, bodies locked in embrace. His hands move from my back to my stomach, and I feel his fingers playing with the hem of the shirt. I break the kiss, still sitting on top of him- to pull the top over my head. I toss it to one side, enjoying his lust-filled gaze, and fit my lips to his once more. His hands trace up my body as we kiss, feeling my hips, my spine, each rib, fluid under my skin. He's fascinated with my human form- he's fascinated with _me._ He begins to touch my chest, cautiously, as though worried I might break. When he's worked out that I'm enjoying it, he grins into the kiss and fluidly unclasps my bra. I slip out of it and he starts to kiss my throat, moving down towards my breasts. I try to hold back a moan, feeling all the blood rush down… _there_ , before gasping because he has started to suck my breast, while pawing at the other.

 _Jesus, he knows what he's been doing._

'Did you…' I gasp. 'Look up how to do this?'

He grins up at me, poking out a tongue that seems to glow blue. Skeleton anatomy. 'I did my research.'

'N… nerd.' He laughs, and his breath against my skin only adds to the pleasant sensation. A few minutes pass, filled with my quiet moans and the sound of magic tongue against human skin.

Finally, he stops, gently kissing the skin just above my breasts, and moves back up to kiss my mouth, before whispering, 'It's late.'

'Yup.' I say, fishing around for the shirt, discarded on the floor. 'And I have work tomorrow.' Sans kisses my hairline tenderly as I slip the shirt over my head.

'Be my big spoon?' I pout, batting my eyelashes. He sniggers.

'Always.'

His arms slip around my slender flame, and I lean into his warmth. He puts his chin on my shoulder, and whispers, 'You're beautiful, Luce.'

Which I think everyone should hear right as they're drifting off to sleep, at least once.


	10. Freak freak freak

The sun is beginning to beat down on our little town as Sans walks me to work. I know, in this weather, the café's going to be at it's busiest. Dread prickles a little at my spine as I think about all the people and all the shouting, but it's hard to be worried when the weather's this nice and Sans' fingers are interlocked with mine.

As we arrive at the café, he kisses my head.

'Meet ya for your lunch break?'

'Cool. It's at 2, like usual.'

'Nice.'

As he walks away, I glance across the street and freeze. I see the thug from a few weeks ago leaning against a wall, playing with a lighter. His eyes are locked on mine, a grim expression on his face. Fear seizes my entire body, and my hands begin to shake. He smirks, turns and walks away.

A warm hand grasps my forearm, and I gasp, nearly jumping out of my skin.

'Woah! It's me, Luce.' Lara is looking at me, eyes full of curiosity. 'What's up? The café's about to open.'

'Don't… don't worry about it. You just made me jump.' I mumble, and her hand slips away.

'Alright, whatever you say. Our shift starts in 5.' She walks off cheerily, beginning to wipe down the tabletops. I shake my head, trying to shake off the chill that's still running up and down my arms. Looking up, I see our boss, Kate, leaning against the counter, frowning at me. She turns to head into her office, beckoning for me to follow. Lara and I exchange a glance.

Kate is a harsh, middle-aged woman. She has problematic views on everything, from homeless people to immigrants. She has a bratty little girl who gets everything she wants, except for affection; and a sleazy husband who never looks higher than my chest. Neither Lara or I like her, and she doesn't like us.

I enter her office, a tiny box of a room, whitewashed and filled with Ikea furniture. No character at all. She gestures to the chair opposite her, giving a false smile.

Sitting nervously, I try to run through the list of things I could have done wrong. I wasn't late. My uniform's spotless. My hands are still shaking.

Kate folds her hands on the desk, sitting forward in her chair, and smiles nastily.

'Lucie.'

 _Shit shit shit shit_

'How long have you been with us?'

'A… month or so?' I say, feeling my body react to the adrenaline that is pumping round my system.

 _Panic is just hormones. It's just simple biology. Calm. Down._

'Right. So for a month or so, you've done a… frankly mediocre job.'

I shut my eyes.

 _It's true. You're mediocre. Other people could do better. Now you're going to lose your job and you're so so so behind on rent oh my god_

'Recently, I've been hearing some things about you. Disturbing things. And now I've seen it for myself.' She takes a breath, examining her nails. She's enjoying herself.

'Fraternizing… with monsters.' She says delicately, voice sugary sweet.

 _Oh, fuck no._

'It's… well, frankly, it's wrong, Lucie. Bestiality.'

'They're-' my voice is husky and small. I clear my throat, trying to hold in my anger. 'They're not _animals_.' She laughs cruelly, finally meeting my eyes.

'I'm sure that's what you, with your little… fetish… keep telling yourself. But that's not the image that this company wants to give off.'

'But… what? That's not… fa-'

'Not fair? Oh sweetie. I don't care. I don't want… your kind… around. So I'm going to write down, on this paperwork I have here, that I'm firing you because of company cutbacks. That's what you'll tell all your friends. That's what you'll tell _Lara_. But you know, just you, that it's because you're a _freak_.'

I can't speak. My eyes are stinging with tears.

 _Freak, freak, freak, freak, freak, freak, freak_

'That is all. You can work for the rest of the week, legally, but…' She purses her lips in a malicious smile, clacking her nails against the table. I stand, jolting the chair back, hands shaking uncontrollably.

As I open my mouth to say something, she raises her eyebrows at me. It's the final straw. Turning on my heel, I slam through the door and out of the shop, brushing a concerned Lara off. I run down the street, tears streaming.

 _Gotta get out gotta get out gotta get out gotta go gotta escape_

WHAM.

I slam into someone. Of bloody course, it's Sans.

 _No no no he can't see you like this_

'Luce! Why aren't you- Oh, shit.' He takes in my appearance as I look up at him, eyes swollen, face sodden with tears.

'What happened?! Is it happening again?'

'N-n-no,' I sob. 'I just got fired.' He pauses, then laughs, relieved, and envelops me in a warm hug.

'Oh Jesus, I thought it was something bad. I get fired all the time, kid.' I sniffle into his shoulder.

'N-n-no I can't get f-f-fired… I'm so behind on rent… I'll get kicked out and… h-h-have nowhere to go… and… and…'

'Shhh…' He pulls me closer. 'Let's go somewhere private, so you can calm down.'

He turns to walk the few streets to his house, gently tugging me along behind him.

* * *

Handing me a cup of golden flower tea, he sits opposite me on the couch.

'Right, Luce. Tell me about this rent deal.' I sniff.

'I'm so behind. I haven't paid it in like, three months because I don't have any money…'

'Okay. We can deal with that.'

'B…but the landlord's given me a final warning. If I don't pay it back in…' I take a second to control my breaths. 'In two weeks, he'll get bailiffs to come and take all my stuff… either way, I'm getting kicked out.' He runs his hand up and down my left arm comfortingly.

'I'm not gonna be able to pay it back… because I don't have… a job anymore.'

'Yeah, what's with that? Why did they fire you?'

'I…' My breaths speed up, tears welling.

'Woah, woah. Take your time.'

'The owner… saw me with you, and… she thinks it's wrong, and that I'm a freak…'

Anger flashes across Sans' face, and his voice is filled with fury.

' _What?_ You know that's a load of crap, right? You're not a freak.'

I nod frantically.

'Yeah, yeah! I… I do. I just… hate her so much, and I can't do anything…'

'If anyone…' Sans seems infuriated by the injustice. 'If anyone tries to say anything is wrong with you, for being a kind person, _ever_ again…' I look at him.

'Sans, your eye.' It's burning blue: seems to activate whenever he's feeling really passionate. He blinks forcefully, seemingly irritated with himself, and it disappears.

'Look, Luce. I can't fix the fact that there are arseholes in this world that want to make life difficult for people like us. But if you think it'll make it better, then I can pay your rent back, and you can move in here when the landlord kicks you out. We can clear out the office, make you a room.' As his words sink in, I stare at him, eyes wide.

'Sans…'

'You don't have to! No pressure, kid. None at all. Just if it will help.'

'That would be… _amazing._ ' I leap at him, flinging my arms round his neck. He laughs.

'Cool. Move in whenever.' I kiss him hard, before leaning my forehead against his.

'Oh, and Sans?'

'Yup?'

'I'm not a kid.'

 ***AUTHOR'S NOTE***  
 **Feeling like this was kind of rushed, but oh well.**  
 **HMM, WITH SANS AND LUCIE LIVING TOGETHER**  
 **WHO KNOWS WHAT KIND OF SINS COULD OCCUR**  
 **WINK**


	11. Sansational

The room that the skeletons have given me is small, cold, and painted an ugly brown colour. I couldn't love it more.

Sans, Papyrus and I spent the rest of my work-free day clearing the clutter out of the office and buying supplies from the local DIY store. Papyrus was fascinated with the aisles and aisles of coloured paint, and bounced around me like an excitable puppy; recommending different shades of pink for my walls. Sans strolled behind, uninterested but amused.

Finally we returned, arms laden with pots of paint, cheap lamps and a lock for my door: I don't want to live in fear of Papyrus bursting in on me changing, or masturbating, or worse. Noo thank you.

 _Besides,_ I think, glancing at Sans and smirking to myself. _It could come in useful._

'What's the smile for, kiddo?'

'Oh, nothing. It's a… _paint_ to explain.' I giggle, raising the paint pots in my arms for emphasis. Sans laughs, poking me in my side, nearly making me drop them.

'HUMANN!' Papyrus shrieks. Sans and I snicker. He sighs. 'I REGRET ASKING YOU TO LIVE HERE.'

'Noo, Papy! You love it. Look! You're smiling!'

'I AM AND I HATE IT.'

I bounce up and down on the bed, grinning, the smell of new paint filling my nostrils.

'I loove it. I'll pay you back, Sans.'

'Don't worry, kiddo. I don't really have much to spend it on.' I shrug, determined to pay it back as soon as possible. Glancing at my watch, I whistle.

'Dude, time always goes so fast at your house. It's midnight.'

'Well, I did try to tell Papyrus we should wait till tomorrow to start decorating. But you know how he is.'

Yes I do. He started all the decorating, got tired at around 9 and left us to finish the paintjob.

Shimmying into bed, I smile at him, lifting up the duvet and patting the mattress beside me. He chuckles and slides under the covers next to me, rolling over so our faces are inches apart. He slides his arm over my waist and I let our legs tangle together. I kiss his bony nose and he laughs.

'I like you, Luce.'

'Yeah?' I smile.

'Yeah.'

'I like you too, Sans.'

'I know. I'm… _sans_ sational.' He snorts with laughter.

'Oh my god, Sans, you ruin all the cute moments.'

'Nah, you love it.'

'Yeah, yeah.'

We look at each other quietly for a few minutes, snuggled up together.

'Luce.'

'Sans.'

'Wanna be my girlfriend?' My smile is so wide I can almost feel it pressing on my ears.

'You bet.' I giggle.

'Nice.' He grins, and I kiss him. So he starts to kiss me back, slowly at first, but we go faster and faster, as if becoming more and more desperate for one another's touch. I slip my pyjama top over my head, already not wearing a bra. His hands find my chest and gently massage my breasts, his lips still locked with mine, blue tongue slipping into my mouth. I moan into his mouth as my heart begins to pump, pulse beginning to race, blood beginning to travel to my crotch. I reciprocate his affection, my hands beginning to explore his ribcage under his blue t shirt. One of my fingers slips through the bones and he lets out a groan of pleasure. I grin into the kiss.

Slipping my tongue into his mouth and feeling the buzz of magic fizz through me, I push my hand up under his shirt and begin to run my fingers along his ribs. His breathing increases, his posture beginning to stiffen.

Pushing him onto his back, I straddle him. I push two fingers between his ribs and he lets out a sharp breath. I begin to gently run my fingers along the inside of his ribcage, feeling every flaw in the surface. He moans in pleasure, fingers digging into the mattress.

'F…fuck Luce…' He groans. I start to rub the bone, adding a little more pressure, glad that I am pleasing him. 'Oh.. fuck… yes…' He bucks against my hand, face etched with pleasure. I rub faster and faster, rubbing my clit against his crotch to give myself some relief. 'Yeah! Right there, Lucie! Oh… Ohhhh…' He climaxes, and as he opens his eyes I see that his left is burning a bright turquoise.

Gradually, his breathing slows, and he looks up at me, grinning, the blue fading. 'Holy shit, Lucie.'

I laugh huskily, wrist tired from the exertion, and lie back down next to him.

'Your turn.' He announces, propping himself up on one elbow. I laugh.

'Wow, you do not know how few guys say that. Ever.'

'Welp, I'm special.' He grins, and cups my cheek as he kisses me. I love the feeling of his marble lips against mine; chills run up and down my spine. His hand leaves my face and begins to trail down my body; the skin his fingers touch feels like it's burning- in a good way. He reaches my panties and begins to slowly rub my pussy over the fabric. I let out a low moan, the tough bones of his fingers on my soft skin sending waves of desire through me. He takes this as a good sign and slips his hand underneath the lacy panties, running his fingers along my slit and earning a deep moan from me.

'S… Sans.'

He pushes a digit inside me.

 _Oh, fuck yes._

And another.

He begins to make a beckoning motion with his two fingers, hitting all the right places inside me and sending a thrill through my veins.

 _I'm so bloody horny… I'm already close._

He continues to move his fingers inside me, while massaging my breasts, grinning at each one of my moans. He begins to move his thumb against my clit, and I writhe under his touch, unable to deal with the intense pleasure that is filling my every atom.

'Sans… please… I'm close…'

He chuckles, and begins to move his fingers faster and harder, watching my face as I hiss in indulgence.

'Fuck… yess… ohh…' The orgasm rips through me, filling my head with cotton wool and rendering my body useless. I lie back in contentment, tipping my head against the pillow as the aftershock hits. Sans withdraws his fingers, and regards the fluid covering them curiously.

'Human thing.' I pant, and tug his hand towards my mouth, licking my cum off his fingers while keeping my eyes locked on his. Despite everything, he blushes.

'You were amazing, Luce.' He breathes.

'You weren't so bad yourself.' I grin. 'I've never… no boy's ever… cared like that before. Cared about how I was feeling.'

'Least I could do.'

I snuggle into his chest and he wraps his arms around my bare torso, my shirt forgotten. Nothing he hasn't seen before.

Within a few minutes, a deep sleep has swallowed me up.

 ***AUTHOR'S NOTE***

 **Smut everywhere. The sins... GAH**

 **I think this'll be the last proper smut chapter I write, bc**

 **I feel a bit weird writing it. Also this counts as sex for skeletons,**

 **bc Sans has no pee pee and I always feel a bit weird reading**

 **about a magic glowing blue penis, ya dig? Maybe it's**

 **just me. Tomorrow, story progression! Eek!**

 **(Also I changed my user. It's lizzieoneill now, my**

 **real name.)**

-lizzieoneill


	12. Fight or flight

I wake up to the sound of Sans' screams.

Jolting up in bed, heart beating like a drum, I look for the source of the danger and realize that he is still laid next to me, but is writhing in his sleep, tears streaming down his face and face filled with pain. It is 6 in the morning.

'LUCIE!' he howls, and I jump again, looking at him in horror.

'Sans!' I shake him gently, and he jerks awake, eyes full of fear and despair.

'W-what? What's going on..?'

'You had a nightmare, Sans.' I pull him close and hold him. 'You were screaming.'

He pulls me tightly to his chest, turquoise tears still cascading from his eyes. 'You… I saw you… dead.' He sobbed. 'The… people from the park…'

I hush him, rubbing circles into his back, trying to get him to calm down, but he breaks away from me and begins to pace, the flames leaping up in his eye higher than I've ever seen them. Pulling a shirt over my head to cover my bare chest, I watch him worriedly.

 _Is he really this scared about those thugs?_

'I'm alive, Sans.' I stand facing him, trying to appear calm. I hold up my hand. 'See?' Sans touches it gingerly with his fingers, then pulls me close to him again. He's shaking like a leaf, sending vibrations through me. I run my hand up and down his back, tracing patterns into the fabric of his t shirt.

Eventually, I lead him back to bed, letting him climb in before crawling in after him and cuddling up, face to face. I can hear his breathing slowing to a steadier pace, so I feel that he's ready to speak.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

He closes his eyes briefly, then whispers, 'Nightmares. I get them all the time. They feel so… real.' I touch my fingers to his skull tenderly, encouraging him to go on.

'I saw you… on the ground, and one of the guys from the park… standing over you. Holding a knife. So much blood…' He trails off.

'At least you know now that it wasn't real.' I take his hand and put it to my face, to my lips. 'I'm here.'

'Luce…' He murmurs, voice filled with an emotion that I can't quite put my finger on. Desperation? Fear? Guilt, even? 'My dreams… In every timeline…' He's looking anywhere but me, like he's been accused of a crime that he may or may not have committed. He swallows, and at that moment it is the loudest noise in the world.

'They've always…'

'They've always what, Sans?' He blinks, then finally meets my eye.

'They've always come true so far.'

* * *

By 11, Sans had calmed down a lot more. He told me to ignore everything he had said in his half-asleep state, that his nightmare had still been affecting his thoughts. He told me what he'd said wasn't true. Still, I have a bad feeling. The bad feeling festers inside me, eating at my stomach. I can't let it consume me.

After a while, I proposed a movie day in our pyjamas, and Sans agreed whole-heartedly. Then he insisted that it's not a movie marathon without appropriate snacks, which I supposed was fair- until I lost the game of rock paper scissors and was given a shopping list and a £10 note.

The shop was less busy than usual, and I didn't feel as bad as I usually do. I barely even worried about what the cashier was thinking about my trolley full of ketchup, chocolate and various other junk food items. I think about this as I walk back, clutching my shopping bags. Ever since I met Sans, my load's been a little lighter. I smile at the ground, before dropping it as I think about his nightmare. I hope I haven't made his any heavier.

It's less sunny today, but humid. I notice the smell of hot tarmac and the three- no, four- birds on the pavement. I notice the homeless man begging for change across the street, and I notice the monster that stops to buy him a sandwich. But I don't notice the figure that is following me, treading my footsteps, until it's too late.

A familiar hand clamps over my mouth, yanking me roughly into a side alley.

'Hey, bitch.' He whispers in my ear, and the hideous stench of his breath fills my nostrils, fear filling my body like lead. I'm paralyzed. He tugs me backwards a few metres, one hand on my mouth and the other clutching a hunk of my hair. He then shoves me backwards and I stumble into a back wall- cornered. It is damp and dingy, a few bags of rubbish the only decoration. I desperately peep over his shoulder, the bright city street seeming far away, and help even further.

'If you call for help…' He hisses. 'I'll fucking murder you.'

I nod in terror, feeling my breaths speed up. This can't be happening. This isn't real. This can't be happening. My hands are shaking like anything and adrenaline is already pumping through my body. Fight or flight. I can't do either.

'This,' he growls, 'Is a warning. A second chance. You're welcome.' I feel the damp, mossy wall behind me with my fingertips and try to count to ten, feeling my lungs shrink.

 _I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die_

'You and your scummy little monster boyfriend are not welcome here.' He snarls, flecks of spit spraying from his yellow teeth, sunken eyes narrowed with hatred.

 _Panic._

Suddenly a cat hisses from behind a bag of rubbish and we both jump.

'Fuckin' vermin.' He steps to one side to lash out at it with a foot, and I see an escape form.

Desperately, I leap past him and begin to dash towards the street, feet slamming against the ground, arms pumping, mouth opening ready to let out a shriek… and a rugged hand closes on my arm, so tight it leaves bruises. He pulls me back so fast I'm sure the whiplash has dislocated my shoulder, and as I whirl back to face him there is a fist to meet my face.

Wham.

I see black and purple and green. I squeeze my eyes shut, letting out a gasp, because the pain is unbearable, spreading out from my cheekbone to my temple to the bridge of my nose. Falling to my knees, I clutch at my face, trying to make the pain stop, to clear my head.

'Second chance, freak.' A growl comes from above me, and a glob of spit lands on the ground in front of me. Then retreating footsteps, and silence.

Gradually, the pain begins to fade. I stand, slowly, feeling my hands shake wildly, legs feeling wobbly. I'm in shock. I just got attacked. I just got _attacked._ The word seems foreign, something that happens in fairy stories. I make a conscious effort to stop the shaking in my hands, before checking my face in my phone camera. It has not yet begun to fully bruise, although there is already a purple shadow along the socket eye. Shoving my phone in my pocket and picking up the bags, I began to gingerly place one foot in front of the other, scared that the guy will change his mind and come back for me. I can feel a phantom hand on my face, on my arm. His voice echoes in my eardrums, harsh and brutal and certain.

One thing's for sure. I can't tell Sans about this. Not after this morning; not after the pain I'd seen on his face. I need to deal with this on my own, for once, and make sure that he stays happy. Ignorance is bliss. I ignore the single tear that tracks down my face, purely a reflex from the pain, because I am filled with determination.

As I push the door open, I thank my stars that Sans is in his room. I dump the shopping bags on the kitchen table, realising that Papyrus is also out. Must be at Undyne's. I creep up the stairs and along the hallway, practically diving into my room. Locking the door, I pick up my makeup bag and retrieve the crusty old foundation that I use every once in a blue moon. I dab it along my cheekbone and rub it in carefully, ignoring the pain. I add a few more layers before stepping back and admiring my handiwork. It's barely visible. I'll have a bit more to worry about when the bruise fully forms, but for now I should be okay. I let out a worried sigh. I still haven't fully taken in the events that just occurred, but I push the anxious thoughts to the back of my mind. I haven't had to do that in a while. Not since Sans first walked into my life, but I need to keep them bottled and hidden away; for him.

'Luce?' Sans voice reverberates through the house. 'You home?'

'Yup!' I call back, taking one last look at the mirror before opening the door. I fix a smile to my face and ignore the cold dread that is sifting around in my stomach. The dream. The attack. A premonition? Or just a coincidence?

 _Shut up shut up shut up stop thinking about it_

'I'm home.'

 ***AUTHOR'S NOTE***  
 **Do we want a chapter with Papyrus?**  
 **I feel like I've glossed over him.**  
 **Also this chapter feels hella rushed but ah well**  
 **Anyway ooh the drama, what's gonna happen next?**  
 **Let me know what you think!**

 **-lizzie**


	13. Grey

'Cheers.' We clink mugs, and I sip at my tea. I don't know what's in this golden flower tea- aside from the obvious- but it tastes heavenly. Sans and I are sitting on the front-steps of the house, cross-legged, watching the sun's watery rays begin to fade as twilight sets in. It's been a month since I first met him. A month since I fell, twisted my ankle, cut my knee. He's changed my life. But I don't think he's changed me. I feel… grey. Tired.  
I lay my head on his shoulder and close my eyes.  
My bruise hurts.

* * *

I scroll through my timeline with one thumb, music blaring in my ears on full volume, and I wonder if I'll get hearing damage. Everyone on my instagram is very, very pretty, tanned skin, blonde hair, flat stomachs. Curves in all the right places.  
Sans has taken Papyrus bowling tonight, but I told him I felt ill- I haven't been out in public for days, too anxious. He's worried, I can tell.  
The bruise is fading.

* * *

This morning I couldn't get out of bed. It feels like the whole world is weighing down on me, like the simplest task is a mountainous challenge. The curtains are shut and I'm curled up in a greasy ball under the sheets. I'm spiraling again, something I haven't done since high school, but I know I can't leave the house, else Sans will get hurt. Sans will get hurt, and it will be all my fault.

* * *

'I'm worried, Luce.' Sans whispers into my shoulder, his arms draped over my waist. 'I'm worried about you.' I wish he'd leave and let me wallow, I'm ugly, cheeks hollow, hair dark with grease. I think I might be going crazy, a little bit psycho. A little bit nuts. I know that he's going to leave me soon, because who could be with me? Who could deal with someone like me? I haven't felt like this since I met Sans. I feel like I'm back to square one, back to the insane bitch that I used to be. Back to being a mess. Soon he's going to leave. Tears fill my eyes and I try not to choke on the lump in my throat. I'm so bloody scared.  
'I'm fine, just sick is all.' He grunts in acknowledgement, reluctantly, and kisses my neck quickly before heaving himself up.  
'Pizza?'  
'Pizza.'

* * *

Sans takes me out today, because it's been two weeks and I haven't left the house. I finally told him that it was because I was scared, but I refuse to tell him why. I can't. I shower and dress and tie up my hair, but even with fresh-smelling hair and clean skin I still look ugly. Takes me a while to stop looking at myself in the mirror and scratching at the back of my hands. As soon as we step out the door I know I'm a goner, whispers in my ears and static in my brain. My stomach is twisting and turning, and still everything is grey, but sharper, harsher.

'Just a walk.' He smiles comfortingly at me, eyes full of concern. He leads me away from the safety of our house, holding me by the hand, as if that will make it better. No. All I can think about is being attacked again, being cornered, being hurt. Everywhere I look there's a shadowy figure, a knife, a fist. I'm jumpy. I feel like my blood is fizzing and frothing inside me. My ears feel like they're full of water. My eyes flick back and forth desperately, as if looking for an escape. Sans' hand, once comforting, feels like a cage around my hand.  
 _You're going to die Sans is going to die He's going to die because of you because of you you you it's aLL YOUR FAULT  
_ A whimper escapes me, and Sans turns to see me crying and shaking.  
He takes me home.

* * *

I'm staring at the dark flecks in the white painted walls, curled up on my side, letting the tears run down my face. Why am I even crying? I am so, so scared, but I don't know why anymore. I think I might have known once. I'm crazy, crazy, crazy.

* * *

'Lucie just tell me what's wrong! You need to leave the house, you can't stay in this room forever!' Sans is almost yelling. But I'm not scared of him, he's the only safe thing in my life; I'll never be scared of him.  
We're outside. The sun is high in the sky and birds are chirping, but I still feel cold. I'm only here because Sans was getting worried, and I don't want Sans to ever worry about me. Anxiety is eating me up inside, but I have to hold it together for him.  
WAS THAT HIM? I think I saw him. I'm sure I saw him. I'm sure that was him. He saw me, and he saw me with Sans.  
No! I have to be strong, for Sans, because me being sane makes him happy.  
His arm is around my waist for support. One foot before the other. I can do this. I can be okay for him.

* * *

We lie together, his fingers tracing patterns into my arm.  
'You've really got me worried, Luce.' He says, looking into my eyes. 'What happened? This happened overnight.'  
'Just... sick...' I murmur, a tear rolling down my cheek. 'Sick, sick, sick...' I sniff, and he wipes away the tear with a thumb.  
'I think I might love you, Lucie.' He whispers. My breath catches in my throat.  
'I love you too.' I say, and I mean it, I really do. In books and in the movies they describe that moment, the confession, when you tell each other that you love each other, as a rush of joy. But to me it is just a truth, something I've known in my heart, and it doesn't make anything more colourful. Everything is still grey. He pulls me tight close to him, and I feel a little warmer in his arms.  
'Don't ever leave me, Luce. I don't know what I'd do.' He kisses my head.  
'I won't.'

I'm still so glad to have him.

* * *

I really messed that one up.

I've always hated going to that shop, ever since I moved here. The aisles are always crowded with monsters and humans. The cashier is relentless in her judgmental stares. My fingers fumble for my change. My smile wobbles. My hands shake. Papyrus wanted to make spaghetti, and seeing as I was feeling a little better today, Sans convinced me that I should get out on my own and buy some ingredients.

The shopping bags are cutting into my palms.

 _Just keep your head down, in one two three, out one two three. Easy. It's easy._

 _IT SHOULD BE EASY WHAT'S WRONG WITH Y-_

He's there. The thug. He's standing right there. He's in front of me.

He's smiling. It was him the other day. He did see us. My heart rate leaps, eyes wide with horror.

The shopping bags have fallen, splitting open.

I'm running.

I've stopped.

Pain.

I look down. It feels like I'm on fire. I can't make myself move anymore. My limbs are sluggish and heavy.

I start to smile, then grin, then laugh hysterically, pressing my hands to my stomach and feeling pain spike through me, feeling my hands become warm and wet.

For the first time in weeks, everything's not grey anymore. It's red.


	14. Inevitable

SANS' POV

I remember the first time I found out.

Lucie'd been acting weird- real weird. She always was a bit… shaky… with her anxiety and whatnot, but this was different. I recognized the symptoms. I could relate to them. She seemed to be going through a bad time, and I was determined to be there for her, to help her through it. I knew I would always be there for her, because I loved her. Loved her from the bottom of my heart. Still do.

Loving her… Loving her is not like any cliché I've ever read about. I don't know how to describe it, really. Just warm. Warm, and comfy, and safe. _Safe…_ Isn't that a joke.

Anyway, it hurt me to see her in the state she was in; I woulda done anything to make it better. I tried, believe me, comfort, tough love, anger, lust, all of it went over her head. Which, if I'm honest, didn't surprise me. When you're in that state… sometimes there's nothing anyone can do. Sometimes you just gotta know that you've got a backup plan. A safety net. So I made sure she knew I was hers.

It had been two weeks before I was considering ringin' up a doctor, a therapist. I don't know how to deal with depression when it's coursing through human flesh and blood- not exactly my area of expertise.

But she woke up seeming a little lighter. I thought- when she walked out of her room and into the kitchen before noon- of her own accord for the first time in weeks- that maybe she was a little better. I hoped, at least. We sat and talked for a while, and she smiled like she really, really wanted to be happy. I could see how much she was trying.

Papyrus… he'd been so worried about her; when he saw her up and about at a reasonable hour he was pretty excited. He announced that we would have celebratory spaghetti, his treat. I couldn't help but groan- Papyrus' spaghetti tastes a bit like dog food- digested, out-the-other-end dog food.

That's when she said it. 'Don't get _saucy,_ Sans.'

I swear, I could not have been happier if she'd told me she'd won the lottery.

So I thought… I just… I just thought maybe while she was feeling okay, we could get her up and out the house, roll with the momentum, y'know? So I suggested…

Ugh. It's all my fault really. I was the one to suggest it.

I said maybe she could go get the spaghetti ingredients from the shop.

I said we were low on vegetables and ketchup.

I said she could go on her own, or with me.

I said she'd be okay.

I said… she'd _be okay._

I got the first bad feeling when it had been an hour. The shop's only usually a twenty minute walk away. She always chooses to walk over taking the bus, she told me once, because the bus makes her panic. Fair enough, I said back. That's understanda- _bus_. The way she laughed at that pun made my soul sing with joy.

Anyway, I convinced myself that she could be taking her time in the store, or she could've stopped for coffee on the way back. She could be taking the scenic route.

Time passed pretty quickly after that; I was distracted surfing channels on the TV, listening to some of Lucie's human music or texting my buddy Grillby. It was only when Papyrus came in to whine that he wanted to start cooking that I glanced at the clock again, and a rush of cold seeped through me as I realized it had been two hours.

Just as this realization set in, the sound of sirens in the distance pierced my non-existent ears. Timing, right?

Before I knew it I was out of the house, sprinting down the streets, desperate to find her.

'LUCIE!' I hollered, and an uncomfortable heat around my eye socket told me that my eye was beginning to flame. My feet slapped the cement beneath me as I ran, fear rising in my throat.

'LUCIE!'

That's probably about when I saw the red and blue lights of an ambulance, the gathering crowd of concerned citizens, the flash of police uniform. That's probably about when I _really_ started to panic.

Something made me stop. I was trying to walk forwards but it felt like I was in slow motion, like I had weights tied to my feet. Something caught my eye. Shopping bags, split open on the road. Bottles of ketchup and packs of tomatoes spilling out of it.

It snapped me out of it, and I ran into the crowd, pushing through people to get to the front, ignoring their indignation.

'Please.' I panted at a police officer, alarm pulsing through my chest. 'What's going on?' I looked past his shoulder and saw her, crumpled in a heap, blood seeping out of her and pooling on the floor. Medics surrounded her like agitated moths. There was so much blood. Too much. She wasn't moving.

'LUCIE!' I screamed, instincts taking over as I shoved past the officer and ran to her. A medic stood in my way. 'Sir, please stay out of our way.'

'You don't understand, that's my girlfriend!'

'I do understand, sir, but trust me.' He smiled calmly and places a hand on my shoulder. 'You're doing more harm than good. Let us do our job.' The police officer was back, guiding me backwards by the elbow. I let him, body limp. Powerless.

Lucie died right there on the street that day, that timeline.

I lost a bit of my sanity that day. Watching someone you love so much die right in front of your eyes like that… it's not good for the soul. Not good for the mind.

Turns out the guy who did it was part of an organization against monsters integrating into human society. The cops never tracked down the head of it, just that one guy, and the group made an example out of her. They said anyone who even went near monsters would suffer the same fate.

Kind of a shame they arrested the guy, really. What I'd give for 15 minutes with him…

I went to Frisk. The human with the ability to reset, the magic power to wipe away the terrible events. They understood straight away. They're good like that. Took the world- everyone- back to the day I met Lucie.

I watched her fall. I held out a hand. I took her home, I healed her, I visited her at work. I did it all again, fell in love with her a second time over. I showed her my magic. I helped her through her panic attacks. I fixed her money problems.

But… I woke up in the middle of the night screaming, again. Screaming, with the _same vision in my mind as before_ , Lucie, my Lucie, dead. Covered in blood, curled up on the pavement.

This time, I tried to stop it. When she fell into her depression, I took her to a doctor. I got her new medication. I didn't force her to leave the house.

That fateful morning, when she came downstairs and made the sauce joke, I laughed like it was new to me. When Papyrus proposed spaghetti, I said _I_ would go get the vegetables.

Just as I was leaving, however, she slipped on her shoes, smiling, saying she wanted to come with me. I hesitated, but figured if she was with me, I could protect her. Maybe the guy wouldn't even come up to us if he saw me with her.

I was wrong. I couldn't protect her. I allowed myself to get distracted by his taunts, to get tired by his constant dodging. I allowed myself to give him an opening, and he struck. I watched Lucie bleed out on the pavement again.

I stayed determined, and Frisk stayed patient. They reset again. I did it all again.

This time, I refused to let Lucie go; told her to stay inside the house with Papyrus. How was I supposed to know Papyrus would take her to the park? I took one look at Papyrus sobbing over her dead body before sprinting to Frisk's house.

I've watched her die so many times now. I've tried everything. Changed everything. Tiny tweaks. Massive edits.

Sometimes I shorten the amount of time I have with her.

Sometimes I lengthen it.

I treasure every day I spend with her, every minute. The talks. The comfort. The sex. But I want to move forwards with her, want to go further. I don't want to keep going through the motions. I don't want to make her predictable.

This girl… I just can't find a way to save her.

Today Lucie died in my arms. She died with her eyes open, looking into my own. She has these real pretty eyes, like emeralds. Real pretty. I watched them turn glassy.

I go to see Frisk again. They look tired these days. They want to move forward, too. That's probably when it fully hits me, how _selfish_ I'm being. How selfish, holding an entire world up for my own petty problems. But I have to do it. There's no other way to save her…

Unless…

A solution forms in my mind. Maybe there is a way. I just have to stop being so selfish.

* * *

LUCIE'S POV

 _Welp, you really messed that one up. Niice._

I've always hated going to that shop, ever since I moved here. The aisles were always crowded with monsters and humans alike, and the cashier was relentless in her judgmental stares, from my fingers fumbling for my change to my wobbly smile as I tried to stop my hands from shaking.

The shopping bags are already cutting into my palms, and I wonder if I should've taken the bus.

 _No. Too much heat. Too many people. Too little room._

I huff a deep sigh, the muggy atmosphere of the town starting to get to me. The day was grey, cloudy and humid. It seemed to me that on days like these, there was never enough oxygen.

 _Just keep your head down, in one two three, out one two three. Easy. It's easy._

 _IT SHOULD BE EASY WHAT'S WRONG WITH Y-_

Suddenly my ankle twists and I begin to fall, letting out an unnatural squawk.

But just as I'm about to hit the ground two hands reach out and catch me, stopping my fall with a jolt. I let out a sharp breath, finding my feet and looking up at my savior. It's a monster- a skeleton.

'Thank you…' I mumble, letting the self-hatred wash over me.

 _Idiot. Idiot. Idiot._

'No worries. Take care of yourself.' He smiles again, something seeming to stir in his eyes.

As I look at him properly, I see that his skull is matte but smooth, like marble, and despite being bone seems to move fluidly. His eye sockets are pools of darkness, save a glint of mischief in each. His smile stretches across his face, and I know instantly that I like that it matters, because I'll never be seeing him again, especially after the spectacle I just pulled.

With that, he shoves his hands back in his pockets, a sad smile on his face, and walks away in the opposite direction.

I never got his name.

 ***AUTHOR'S NOTE***

 **This is the end. I really loved writing this story, hope you all enjoyed reading it!**

 **Although this is the end to Lucie and Sans, it isn't the end of my writing, so stay tuned in:)**

 **I've learned a lot from writing this. If I could write it over, I would; I'd build up the tension a little more with the thug, and develop the character a bit more so their motivations were more clear. I'd improve secondary character development, like Papyrus and Lara for example. And I'd make everything a bit slower!**

 **Thanks so much again for reading, it's been a great first experience3**


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